


the hours I spend with you

by Laura JV (jacquez)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Podfic Available, soft bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquez/pseuds/Laura%20JV





	the hours I spend with you

Crowley stopped by the bookshop, mostly because he hadn’t seen Aziraphale for nearly a week. He’d been introducing a subtle bug into financial software that, in three days time, would be making half the stockbrokers in the world sob in frustration, and work like that took time.

 

He hadn’t sent a report to Hell. Fuck Hell, anyway.

 

The bookshop was locked — well, it was nearly midnight — but clicked open to his hand. "Angel?"

 

"Oh," Aziraphale replied, blinking his pretty, infuriating eyes. "Hello." 

 

His eyes were  _ damp _ . Crowley took off his sunglasses to get a better look — yes, definitely damp. "Have you been crying?" 

 

Aziraphale frowned and straightened the books under his hand, his gaze fixed on their spines. "It’s just, well, I was never very  _ close _ to anyone, you know, but it’s a little hard not having even — you know,  _ hello, Aziraphale, nice to see you, thanks for the report. _ Or _ here, go bless this field, so that the sheep wax fat. _ " He sighed. "I miss it. I miss them."

 

His head bowed, and Crowley reached out and touched the soft nape of his neck. He meant to rest his hand there for just an instant, a tiny comfort, but Aziraphale made a shaky, broken noise, an injured-puppy noise, and Crowley couldn’t stand it. He hauled his friend in close, pressed his face with its damp, pretty eyes to his own neck, ran his fingers up into Aziraphale’s pale hair and held him there. "Well, you have me, don’t you?"

 

"I suppose I do," Aziraphale said, into his neck. His hands landed, lightly as birds, on Crowley’s hips.

 

"'Course you do," Crowley said, and inhaled, drawing Aziraphale’s scent into his lungs. All angels smelled faintly of cold, clear things, in the same way all humans smelled faintly of earth. Gabriel smelled of glaciers and electricity, and Michael like a raging blizzard, but Aziraphale smelled of a brisk spring day. The strands of his hair wound around Crowley’s fingers, and he scratched softly at his friend’s scalp.

 

Aziraphale made a contented sound in his throat. "Do keep doing that, it’s simply lovely." 

 

"As long as you like, angel," Crowley answered, and closed his eyes. "As long as you like." 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The hours I spend with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632191) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)




End file.
